Broken English
by Kashtien James
Summary: "I hope they were a helluva good fourteen seconds, because that dirty tramp will never be as good as me." The next thing Cooper knew, Charlotte's engagement ring was flying into his chest and had landed on the tiled flooring.
1. Fourteen Seconds

**A/N: I do not own nor I am affiliated with Private Practice or the characters from the show. Shonda Rhimes owns everything. In future chapters, this will be Charlotte/Cooper. Read and review!**

"What's the matter, Vi?"

It was the look on her face that gave her away. She was ready to break down in tears, and she wasn't telling him what was wrong. Taking a step closer, he reached out to stroke her arm, but she stepped away from his touch.

"He's gone, Coop. He just . . . packed his things and left." Now the tears started, and Violet's voice cracked, "That sonovabitch left me alone with our son.. He didn't even say a word."

Pete left? Is that what Violet was saying? Pete had just . . . left? Ignoring her resistance, Cooper closed the distance between him and his friend, capturing her in a tight hug. How dare someone do this to her? How dare Pete leave his family?

"I - I can't do this without him," Violet's plea came from his shoulder, muffled by his shirt and divided by sobs.

Stroking her hair, Cooper attempted to comfort the woman, "Shh . . . sh-sh-sh. He'll be back, Vi. He made an irrational decision, and when he realizes that, he'll come crawling back. Shh . . . Do you hear me?"

A nearly imperceptible nod could be felt against his body. She could hear him, though, and he knew it even without her confirmation. The fact that he was sounding like a shrink didn't pass by him unnoticed. He sounded like Violet did when she was comforting him.

She clung to her best friend like he was her last breath. The shock that she felt was unbelievable. Things between her and Pete hadn't been so extravagant as of late, but she had never expected _this._ He was a good father. He was a responsible man. He loved her. _He loved her._ Right? At that moment, she didn't know. Violet wasn't sure of anything. The only thing she knew was that there were divorce papers on her kitchen counter, and Pete was gone.

Her life was falling apart.

Cooper was her only constant. There was one person she could rely on and look to, and it was him. And soon enough she would lose him to Charlotte for good. They would be married and Cooper would no longer be Cooper. He would be married Cooper. Family Cooper. Charlotte's Cooper.

She wasn't thinking straight. She didn't know what she was doing. All she knew was Cooper's warm breath on her neck, his hand on her head. He was what kept her going, and they both knew it. He was the reason that she hadn't jumped off a building by now.

Removing her face from his chest, Violet placed a gentle, testing kiss on his lips. She knew that this was the stupidest, most irrational thing that she had ever done and would ever do, but she couldn't help herself. Without waiting to see his reaction, she closed her eyes and pressed her mouth full against his. Either he would kiss her back, or he wouldn't. Violet was screwed with both options.

Cooper's hands immediately flew out as if in surrender. He would not touch his best friend. He would not touch his best friend. He would _not_ touch his best friend. But he was already doing worse than touching her. He was kissing her. Why was he kissing her? Obviously, because she had kissed him. But no! _Why_ was he kissing her back? It was his sex-crazed ex-self making an unexpected reappearance, and ruining everything.

The kiss had lasted a good eight seconds, and Cooper couldn't control himself any longer. Allowing his hands to settle on Violet's waist, he pulled her body closer to his. All of his senses were alert. Her hands on the back of his neck; in his hair. The scent of her conditioner. The taste of her tongue . . .

No.

No.

No.

Cooper's hands reached up and grabbed hold of Violet's, pulling them down and away from him. He took three steps backward, until his back collided with the wall behind him. "What the hell are we doing, Vi? What the fuck was that?"

Violet's gorgeous eyes were wide with surprise, as if she had just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. That had been the best kiss of her entire life. Kissing Cooper should have felt foreign and wrong, like kissing her brother. Instead it had been like kissing Bill Clinton. Good ol' Bill.

The only problem was . . . Cooper was frantic. As if on cue, both Violet and he looked up to see Charlotte standing just outside Violet's office, peering through the blinds directly at the two culprits. The look on her face was clearly one of anger, but Cooper saw something else. In her eyes, there was hurt.

"Shit!" He moved for the door, wanting to make things alright with Charlotte before they got worse. She had already turned her back and was on her way down the hall.

Violet tossed out after him, "I'm sorry, Coop!" He heard her but was too preoccupied to care.

Charlotte was going to hate him.

Charlotte was going to kill him.

And worst of all, Charlotte was going to leave him.

Cooper watched as Char ducked into the kitchen. She'd probably chosen it because it was the closest room that wasn't preoccupied. He caught up to her seconds. She was standing in her solitude with her back the the doorway. "Charlotte, you don't understand. It was nothing. It was stupi-"

She kept her back to him, "I don't give a damn if it was nothing. I don't give a damn if it was once. I don't fucking care, Cooper! You just threw away our entire relationship for fourteen seconds."

"Don't do this, Char . . ." he knew what was coming, "Don't -" He didn't know. Reaching for her shoulder, he yearned for her touch. He could tell that she was crying by the way that her body shook, but her voice did not betray her.

Suddenly, she spun around, her palm meeting with the side of his face in a flurry of blond hair and anger. It stung. "I hope they were a helluva good fourteen seconds, because that dirty tramp will never be as good as me." It looked like she was going to hold her hands together, but the next thing Cooper knew, Charlotte's engagement ring was flying into his chest and had landed on the tiled flooring. She left the kitchen with tears streaming down her face.

**A/N: Reviews would make me very happy! I will update soon, if enough people would like for me to continue. This WILL be Charlotte/Cooper.**


	2. Tuesday Morning

**A/N: Again, everything belongs to Shonda Rhimes. For the purposes of this story, (just to clarify) Charlotte was not raped. The attack never happened. Cooper and Charlotte rent a house together. Please review!**

Slowly, carefully, Cooper picked up the ring. He couldn't believe it. He had just lost his fiancee over fourteen seconds. He didn't bother doubting the extent of her seriousness. When Charlotte did something, that was it. Yes, it had been a good fourteen seconds, but it was definitely not worth the price. He pocketed the piece of gold that had previously brought him so much joy, and left the kitchen for his office.

His colleagues had never ceased to step in at just the wrong times before, so why had he expected this to be an exception? Halfway down the hallway, Addison stopped him in his tracks, "What did you do that Charlotte? I mean, she's not my friend or anything, but . . . Cooper! She was _crying_. You made Charlotte King cry."

Great. Now the world would know. About him and Violet. About him and Charlotte.

"Look, Addison, I can't talk right now. I have to make a house call." That was a straight out lie, but it would hopefully get him out of the situation.

As he walked away, Addison called out after him, "You have some explaining to do, Mr.!"

Cooper grabbed his jacket from his office and headed outside. After sitting in his car for an hour, he finally decided he would go home. Home to where he and Charlotte lived. Home to where Charlotte would soon be. He didn't have any patients scheduled for the rest of the day, so there really wasn't anything to worry about. Except the fact that he had his fiancee's engagement ring in his pocket.

When he arrived at the house, he was crying. He had promised himself that he wouldn't, but he was. One stupid mistake and it was all gone. Fourteen seconds and everything that he lived for had walked out.

Three hours later, Charlotte's car pulled up in the driveway. When she saw Cooper sitting on the doorstep, she contemplated backing out and staying at a hotel for the night. She couldn't let him have the upper hand, though. She refused to let him think that she was defeated, that he had won. He could be as sorry as he wanted to be, but the fact remained that he had kissed Violet. His lips had been against Violet Turner's for all of fourteen seconds. It wasn't even a quarter of a minute, and it was the end.

She opened the door to her car and stepped out, avoiding eye contact with the man sitting on her doorstep. _Act like he's a homeless person. Ignore him and he won't ask for money._

Cooper wasn't a homeless person. When she couldn't resist it any longer, her green hues shifted to meet Cooper's dark blue eyes, and Charlotte couldn't help herself but to snap, "Why the hell are you sitting on the doorstep?"

He looked away, and Charlotte silently thanked God. "I left my keys at the office -"

"Good. You can stay at your whore's house tonight. I'm sure she'll appreciate the company." Her words were clipped with anger. Or at least that's what she was trying to convey. But Cooper knew better. Her tone was lined with hurt.

"Charlotte, I - you don't underst-"

"Oh I understand perfectly, Cooper. I understand that now I have to wonder about every time I was alright with you going out for drinks with her. I understand that now I have to think back to every time you were late coming home from work, because you had a consult or a case to talk to Violet about. I understand that you _will_ get off of my front step, you will not talk to me at work unless it is strictly business, and you will leave me the hell alone. I'm done, Cooper."

With that, she unlocked the front door and disappeared within the safe confines of her house. Their house. "Charlotte!" Cooper yelled after her, but to no avail. Even if she had heard him, she wouldn't have bothered answering. She said she was finished, and she was finished. Cooper sunk down against the door, defeated. It was cold and damp outside, but he would sit there until she let him in. Or until he died of hypothermia.

On the opposite side of the door, Charlotte melted into a puddle at the door before she had even taken her heels off. She listened carefully for the sound of an engine starting, but never heard it.

So they sat there. Together and yet completely alone. Back to back. For hours.

At two in the morning, Charlotte finally picked herself up from beside herself and went to bed. She didn't sleep.

At three in the morning, Cooper finally picked himself up from beside himself and drove to a hotel. He didn't sleep.

The next day, Charlotte avoided the morning discussion in the kitchen. She didn't want to deal with everyone's questions and looks, and she did not want to see Cooper. Or Violet. She knew where Cooper had been for most of the night, but after he had left, she could only assume where he had gone. Sympathy sex with his "best friend" was hardly a way to show that he cared.

Managing to avoid him until after lunch, she slipped up and passed by him in the hall. The first thing that caught her attention was her engagement ring around his neck. He had looped a gold chain through it and was wearing it as a display. Proof of his feat. _"I made Charlotte King cry her eyes out."_

Asshole.

Sonovabitch.

She wanted to pull him into her office and give him a good ol' down South talkin' to, but she resisted the urge. Knowing him, and knowing her, they would probably end up having dirty, naughty, hot break-up sex on her desk. That was not what she was going for.

A week passed. Cooper had had to buy new clothing because Charlotte wouldn't let him in the house. He'd even had to purchase a new toothbrush. She was blowing this way out of proportion. In a way, though, Cooper understood. She had been cheated on in the past, and she assumed that she was being cheated on now. And he'd fucked up.

He'd fucked up something fierce.

Violet wasn't talking to him, either. Pete was nowhere to be found, Violet was a mess, and Cooper couldn't be her best friend like she needed. Everything and everyone around him was falling to pieces.

Everyone knew what was going on, which made things one hundred times worse. They asked questions that Cooper couldn't answer. They fell silent when Charlotte walked into the kitchen in the morning.

Until Tuesday morning. On Tuesday morning, one week after Charlotte had thrown her engagement ring at Cooper, it didn't matter when she walked into the kitchen in the morning. It didn't matter, because right before she walked in, Pete walked to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup of coffee. As if he hadn't disappeared for a week. As if everything was just fine.

Sam, Cooper, Sheldon, Naomi, Amelia, and Addison stood frozen in shock.

When Pete turned around, he gave them his smirk-question look, "You guys look like you've just seen a ghost." Then he walked out with his coffee.

**A/N: I'm building up to Charlotte/Cooper. No worries! They will come, but only with a few twists along the way. Hehe... Review! I'll update soon.**


	3. Not So Close

**A/N: Everything belongs to Shonda Rhimes. Review! Review! Review! Suggestions are always welcome, though they may not be used. Tell me what you think!**

"Where the hell did you go, Pete?" Charlotte didn't bother going into the kitchen that morning. She caught Pete as he was on his way out with his coffee, leaving the ghost watchers behind.

"That's none of your business. Why is it that no one around here can stay out of peoples' business."

"Take it down a notch, Wilder. Whatever the reason, you've had patients that have needed a doctor. You can't disappear like that and you know it. You're lucky you weren't fired."

"What's it matter to you if I'm fired?"

Something was up. Charlotte could tell by the tone in his voice. They were by no means friends, but they could be friendly. She wasn't as cold-hearted as some people liked to believe.

"Fine," Charlotte reiterated his tone, "You wanna treat us like scum? We can play that game, too."

Pete had the audacity to squint his eyes at her, like she was saying something completely absurd. "Fine," he mimicked, then turned his back on her to enter his office. Charlotte took note of the fact that, even after the door was closed, he didn't turn on the lights. Pete Wilder was sitting in the dark, alone, drinking coffee. Cooper Freedman was sleeping with Violet Turner. And her? Well . . . Charlotte King was going mad.

Blinking a couple of times, just to be sure that she wasn't already gone and over the edge, she watched as Cooper skittered across and down the hall to Violet's office. Oh how wonderful. She was giving him morning sex in the office. What a nice little treat for the tw- Charlotte cut off her own thought, childishly stomping her foot on the floor. That man was impossible! Cooper could sit on her doorstep for as many hours as he liked, but as long as he was saying one thing and doing another, they were over.

No. Not "as long as". They were over whether he continued to sleep with his slut or not. Because . . . fourteen seconds was a long time when your heart was being torn from your chest during them.

"Why won't you talk to me?" Cooper barged into Violet's office, nearly causing her to drop her muffin. He was tired of nobody talking to him; acting like he was some sort of infectious disease.

"Cooper, it's not that I _won't _talk to you. I haven't been not talking to you." Violet tried to defend herself, but it was useless.

" 'Good morning' and 'hi' don't count, Vi. You haven't been talking to me!" He took a seat across from his friend, refusing to leave until they had gotten to the bottom of this.

"Look, I kissed you, and then your fiancee walked out on you. You should be furious with me right now. You shouldn't be begging for me to talk to you. You should be blaming me for ruining your life."

"I kissed you, too, Violet. It takes to to tango. It was one stupid mistake that some people can't get over. I need you to be my friend."

_One stupid mistake._ That's what he thought? He thought that the best kiss of her entire life was just one stupid mistake. Well . . . that was a good thing, right? It's not like she was expecting anything more. He was Cooper. He was her best friend. He was not best kiss material.

"Okay, okay. I'm here for you, Coop."

A smile broke through his worried expression, "Thanks. We're good?"

"We're good."

"Good, now . . . as your friend, I have to tell you: Pete's back."

Violet stopped dead in her tracks with a piece of muffin halfway to her mouth. She took the time to pick her jaw up off the floor before she finally gathered the brain-power to speak, "Well at least we know he's not dead." A short, humor-lacking chuckle escaped her lips. A silent moment passed between them, and then she added, "Unfortunately."

"Now you want him dead?" Cooper was confused. The opposite sex was confusing enough to begin with, never mind throwing in a little bit of drama to top it all off.

"Yes. No. Sort of. If he's dead, then I don't have to know where I screwed up. I don't have to face him."

"What about Lucas?"

Violently, she tossed the remainder of her breakfast muffin into the trash, evidently aggravated with the situation. "I don't know. I don't know, goddammit!" She looked up to see the surprise on Cooper's face, and took a deep breath, "Sorry. I just . . . I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Okay." To be honest, neither did Cooper. He wanted to be alone with a bottle of tequila, completely drunk out-of-his-mind and unable to put a single coherent thought together. More than that, though, he wanted Charlotte. He wanted to hold her and to kiss her and to tell her that he loved her. But he couldn't.

He couldn't because, for fourteen seconds, his lips had been on Violet's. He should be furious with Violet, but he couldn't afford to have another person mad with him.

"Have you tried talking to Charlotte?" Violet broke through his thoughts.

"She won't even look at me. I had to buy new clothes."

Vi cocked an eyebrow, "What does having to buy new clothes have to do with Charlotte? You don't seriously think that'll grab her attention, do you? 'Cause from what I've seen in the past week, the new ones aren't so different from the old ones. Stop wasting your money."

Cooper slouched over in the chair like a sad rag-doll. "She wouldn't let me in the house."

"Oh. Ooooohhhhh!"

"Yeah. So I bought new clothes."

"I got it now, Coop. I don't know what to tell you. Charlotte is complex and stubborn. But if you don't talk to her, you won't fix anything."

He was nodding now. "I know that. I can't _make _her talk to me, though."

"Sure you can! Corner her, tell her things that she has to say something to. She can't avoid you forever."

Cooper stood, a light bulb having just lit up in his head, "Alright. Okay!"

He was out of her sight before she could send out her warning, "I didn't mean literally."

Rushing to Charlotte's office, Cooper found that the woman he was is search of was nowhere to be found. He checked the lobby next, but it was empty aside from some not-Dell sitting at the large desk. Where the hell was she?

Aha! Pete's interruption had deterred her from her morning coffee, and there was no way she could function without her morning coffee. Cooper changed his course and made for the kitchen. The kitchen was the hub of everything, and he knew that was where he would find Charlotte.

Corner her and tell her things that she has to say something to.

That was the plan.

Sure enough, Charlotte stood with coffee cup before her, stirring in cream and sugar. Upon hearing footsteps, she looked up, then quickly averted every ounce of her attention back to perfecting the coffee.

Cooper crossed to the counter and stood right next to her, the rolled up sleeve of his shirt brushing against her arm.

"What do you want, Cooper?" She didn't look up.

"You, Charlotte. Only you."

She wanted to break down and cry. She wanted to tell him that she was sorry for overreacting. She wanted to hit him and kick him until he was black and blue for being such an idiot. "Well you can't have me. And stop standin' so close. You're gonna make me spill my coffee." Her resolve was crumbling. Even without looking at him she could tell that the look on his face was one of a sad puppy dog. He was pleading with her. With those beautiful blue eyes.

Cooper put himself between Charlotte and the counter, which was too close for her comfort at that moment. Finally she met his gaze, finding herself suppressing the urge to kiss him. The only thing that was stopping her was knowing that those lips had been on Violet's.

"I love you, Char."

"Don't. Just . . . don't. I need you to let it go. I need you to take the chain from around your neck and remove the ring from it. I need you to stop standin' so close to me when all I want is coffee. You need to let it go before I'm unable to."

She was talking to him like she talked to her patients. Like he was nothing to her.

Reaching up to brush a stand of golden hair from her face, Cooper moved his hand to the back of her neck and gently urged her toward him. When she didn't resist, his other hand met her waist, pulling her body against his. God, it was good to be close to her. He placed a kiss on her cheek, and taking the fact that her hand had yet to meet with the side of his face as the "all clear", he allowed his mouth to venture to hers. Charlotte kissed him back. Her lips parted and a low moan escaped. Cooper's tongue brushed against her tingling bottom lip, and that was when she realized what was happening.

Before her brain had even fully processed the situation they were in, Cooper felt a hot liquid trickling down his back. She hadn't! Yes, she had. Pulling away immediately, he gave her a horrified expression. Charlotte stepped back and showcased the empty mug before him, "I told you not to stand so close."

**A/N: How do you like that? The more reviews I get, the faster I'll update. :)**


	4. Thieves

**A/N: I own nothing. It's all Shonda's! Please read and review. I'm really happy with how this story is coming along. Hope everyone is enjoying!**

Through two layers of thick clothing, accompanied by the fact that the coffee had been sitting in the pot and then on the counter, the burns weren't serious. He would have to have Violet take a look at them to assess the damage, but the slight pain was barely noticeable. There was something that bothered Cooper much more, though: Charlotte had poured coffee down his back! This wasn't a simple slap across the face or tongue-lashing.

It was one kiss! Admittedly, it was one kiss that lasted fourteen seconds with a woman who he claimed to have friendship-only feelings for. Nevertheless, it was _one_ kiss. One stupid mistake didn't call for tar and feathers, did it?

No. Not in the twenty-first century, anyway.

He understood. At least, he was trying to. Charlotte's ex-husband had been a lying, cheating, unworthy sonovabitch who had broken her heart and changed her forever. It didn't motter how repetitively she tried to deflect the idea that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't invincible. Cooper had eyes. He could see that, just like every other woman, Charlotte was as fragile as the wings of a butterfly. Easily broken, and impossible to repair.

"What's with everyone today? This whole place has a . . . weird vibe."

Charlotte jumped at the sound of Pete's voice, quickly swiping away the tears that threatened to overflow her eyes. She tossed the coffee soaked dishcloth into the sink and turned to face him, making the abrupt and final decision to go ahead with her mental plan. "Do you . . . uhm . . . wanna talk about it?" She didn't even know what _it_ was.

Pete knew what she was talking about. "No," he replied flatly. There was no room for question. He wasn't discussing "_it". _

"I'll tell you if you tell me." God, she sounded juvenile. Why did she even expect this man to care? The only reason Charlotte was talking to (or attempting to talk to) him was because she held an ounce of hope that he wouldn't be quite as bad a gossip as her other choices for a confidante.

"Why?"

"Look, Wilder, I gotta talk to someone right now. Sheldon asks too many questions and everyone else around here is a gossip typhoon. I'm not sayin' you're my last option, but you're kinda my last option."

He smirked. It was that Pete Wilder smirk with those fancy lips that made most women melt. It had never worked on Charlotte, and it wasn't working now. "So how does this work?" He inquired.

She let out a breath that she hadn't even realized she was holding. "I'll tell you what's goin' on with me. You tell me what's goin' on with you. Then we're done. We don't talk to each other or anybody else about it."

"Deal. You go first."

"Woah there, cowboy. Why do I have to go first? How do I know you're not gonna back out?"

"What is this? Second grade? This was your idea, Charlotte. Trust me or don't. I'm not losing anything."

An audible sigh escaped her lips and she laid it out for Pete. She couldn't believe that she was actually telling him this. Not that the entire practice didn't already know. "Cooper kissed Violet. I broke off the engagement, and I just poured coffee all over him."

He narrowed his eyes, "On purpose?"

Charlotte's green hues begged him for some assurance that her actions were acceptable as she nodded confirmation to his question.

"You don't think that was a little bit extreme?" Great. Now Pete sounded like a second-grade teacher scolding a seven-year-old.

"New rule: no questions. Alright? Now spill."

"I have a daughter. She's fifteen, she hates me, and her mother just died."

"Oh." Charlotte's jaw dropped. That had been the absolute furthest thing from what she was expecting to hear. For a brief moment, she regretted adding in that last rule.

Before Cooper could bother with finding Violet, he headed to Charlotte's office. Having just left her in the kitchen, he was quite sure that she wouldn't be there. There was something that belonged to him, and under any other circumstances, he would have let her keep it.

In the bottom right hand drawer of her desk, he found it. Neatly folded and perfectly pressed, Cooper's blue shirt lay there. Charlotte had worn it to work one morning after staying the night at his house. They'd argued that day, and Cooper had never gotten his shirt back. This had been before they were even in a serious relationship. She thought he had forgot about it, but she was wrong. Cooper never mentioned it because secretly, he liked to think of her treasuring something of his. Why she kept it at work, in that drawer, he didn't know, but he'd come across it when searching for a file one day. Charlotte had stolen his favourite shirt, and he finally had a reason to take it back.

Lifting the shirt to his face, he inhaled deeply. It smelt like her.

"I love you," Cooper whispered into the darkness of the office. He hadn't bothered with turning the lights on; they would threaten to attract unwanted attention. And he wasn't talking to the shirt.

It wasn't a good idea to linger. If Charlotte caught him in there, he was almost positive that he would be castrated and burned along with his favourite shirt. The small doubt that he held about that was quickly dissipating after the stunt she had pulled.

Charlotte couldn't believe it! That bastard had stolen her shirt! Alright, it was technically his shirt to begin with, but once somebody has had something for so long, it becomes theirs. It grows on them. People can't go around randomly stealing body parts, so they shouldn't be going around taking belongings that were a part of their owners. It was ridiculous.

She had seen him wearing that blue shirt in the hall, and she had immediately known where it came from. How did Cooper know about that? She'd been very careful about making sure he didn't find it. And it wasn't like he was trying to hide the fact that he was a thief. The blue was a great contrast to the black one he had previously been wearing.

As soon as she was home she grabbed Cooper's dufflebag and threw an array of his clothing into it. She was headed to Violet's to get her shirt back. As much as she knew it would be painful to see him all comfortable and cozy living over there, she _needed_ that shirt.

**A/N: So I'm not sure when the next update will be. I'm fifteen, I'm in school, and it's getting close to Christmas. Things are becoming hectic. It won't be too long between updates, but it may be more than a day or two. :) Please continue to follow, and remember to review! The next chapter will be a little**


	5. Already Gone

**A/N: Surprise, surprise! Shonda Rhimes still owns everything. I hope everyone is enjoying. I'm definitely having fun writing. Don't forget to review! **

Cooper's car wasn't a Violet's house. Had he left it at the hospital? Were they out? If they were, Charlotte decided, she was going to wait until they came home. Bottom line was, she would not leave without that shirt. It wasn't about Cooper, she tried to convince herself. It was the principle. The fact that he now thought he had the upper hand. Surely, it didn't have to do with her wanting to have a piece of him. It didn't have to do with the fact that she simply loved wearing his shirt, knowing that he wore that shirt, too. No. That couldn't be it.

Grabbing the dufflebag off of the passenger seat, Charlotte turned off the ignition and stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath as she did so. She could pretend to be strong all the time, but she wasn't. Yes, she was a strong woman; she could fend for herself, but every rose has it's thorn, right?

The house door opened almost immediately after her knock. Violet's hair was pulled up into a messy bun on the top of her head, her face and shirt covered in various foods, and Lucas on her hip, looking the exact same. _Someone _was having fun. By the look on the mother's face, it wasn't her.

Quickly, Charlotte found her commanding voice - the one that people were intimidated by -, "I need to speak with Cooper."

Lucas squealed and tugged at a piece of Violet's hair. The woman pushed the boy's hand down before raising a brow to the blond, a question on her face. "Cooper? He isn't here."

"Well would you mind telling me where, exactly, the man is?" Charlotte wasn't in a particularly patient mood. She wanted to give him his belongings, get her shirt, and be done with the situation.

"He's staying over at the Sheraton."

Oh. He wasn't staying with Violet. Feeling an overload of emotions, both relieving and threatening, Charlotte only managed to nod and relay a quiet, "Thank you," before returning to her vehicle. This entire time she had been assuming Cooper's whereabouts. She had been holding extra resentment toward him because of what he was doing (which he apparently wasn't even doing). Now, she felt bad. She had known the coffee wouldn't do much more than make him tingle a little bit, as she had been about to throw it in the microwave to warm it up. This, though . . . maybe she owed him an apology. She wasn't about to excuse what he had done, but maybe it was time to act civil. They could be friends, right?

Sure.

Just friends.

The Sheraton wasn't far from either Charlotte or Violet's house. It was quite close to the hospital, too. She should have known better, she felt. Cooper may have his stupid moments, but he wasn't stupid.

Ten minutes later, she was there, asking the woman at the front desk for Cooper Freedman's room number.

"I'll have to tell him he has a guest," the ditsy looking - and sounding - redhead told her. Charlotte immediately disliked her. Her boobs were too big, obviously fake. Her hair was too bright, obviously dyed. Her tone was too . . . something.

"Alright." She could tell Cooper he had a guest.

"Uhh . . . you're name?" The smacking of too much bubble-gum took over the silence of the long pause between "uhh" and the rest of the question.

Charlotte hesitated briefly, but the receptionist was oblivious, "Violet . . . Violet Turner. And tell him it's important."

"One moment please," her words were drawn out. Not in the seductive way that Charlotte's accent drew out some of her speech, but in a way that made the redhead seem too lazy to actually speak properly.

"Mhm," she said shortly, not bothering to fully acknowledge the pathetic attempt at a request for patience.

Twenty seconds later, she hung up the phone and looked at Charlotte with her neon-colour-makeup-coated eyes, "Mr. Freedman said to send you up. He's in room number 618."

"Thanks," Charlotte replied, relieved that Cooper hadn't just talked to Violet or something like that, and seen right through her lie.

The dufflebag was heavy on her shoulder as she rode the elevator. It was like a burden she was carrying. The burden of Cooper. If he would just let go . . . then maybe she could move on. Get over it. Forget. Be a friend.

Like that was possible.

Her mind was made up. She was going to knock on the door. Cooper would answer. She would shove the bag into his chest, politely demand for her shirt . . . his shirt, and be gone.

End of story.

She would go home, shower, put on her shirt, have a glass of wine, and sleep like a baby all night long.

If everything went according to plan.

Charlotte knocked on the door. Three, authoritative, consecutive knocks.

From behind the door, she heard Cooper yell out, "One minute. I'll be right there, Vi."

A second later he answered the door, wearing that damn blue shirt. God, he looked beautiful in it. She wanted to jump on him, kick the door closed, stumble over to the bed, and make passionate love to him.

But she couldn't. That wasn't part of the plan.

Without a word, the door shut in her face.

Charlotte sighed. She would sit at his door all night long if she had to. She wasn't leaving without that shirt.

"Cooper, open up! I brought you some clothes," under her breath, she added, "you little thief."

He hadn't taken a step away from the door yet, and it reopened immediately, "I heard that. And I believe _you're _the thief, here."

"Whatever, just give me the shirt."

Cooper narrowed his eyes, "No."

"I'm not playin' games," she extended the dufflebag toward him.

"Not playing games? You just lied about your identity to get past the bimbo receptionist and steal my shirt."

He was right, and Charlotte felt defeated. There wasn't any sign that she felt so in her face. She wouldn't let him know that he had a handle on her emotions. There was no fight left in her. She was nearly out of ideas . . . except, of course, for one.

Out of nowhere, Charlotte took a step forward and dropped the bag onto the floor. Grabbing a handful of the blue shirt, she pulled him into her, harshly crushing their lips together. There was a single second where Cooper didn't know what he should do. The last time he had kissed her, he'd been rewarded with a cup of coffee. But it was only a single second. Before she had counted the beat, his hands were on her waist and her body had melted into his. The kiss was meant only to distract him, but they both knew it was more. This time, there was no holding back on her behalf. Charlotte's tongue slid through the barrier of Cooper's lips, exploring his mouth.

_Don't close the door_, she reminded herself. If she closed the door, she was gone. She was in to stay. Her hands traveled over his clean shaved jaw and down to the first button. Cooper's arm reached behind her to push the door closed, but Charlotte's foot was set firmly in place; literally. The door wouldn't budge.

Her hands worked their way down to the last button, and she gave his belt a teasing tug before sliding the shirt from his shoulders.

As soon as his arms had been removed and she was home-free, Charlotte snatched the shirt and pulled back, flashing him an irresistible smile as she left the hotel room, swinging the door closed behind her.

Cooper stood, stunned and shirtless, trying to process what had just happened. Without thinking, he opened the door, "Charlotte!" she turned to face him, the shirt folded over her arm, "stay?" He asked.

"I came for my shirt. That's it."

He nodded and returned to the room. Before he had switched the television on, there was a knock on his door. He knew that it wasn't Violet, this time. Opening the door with a broad smile, he stepped out of the way for Charlotte to enter.

She shook her head from one side to the other, "I wanted to apologize for the coffee. I hope you're alright." Silence. She had to break it, "I was wondering if we could be friends . . . or at least civil with one another?"

Her words broke his heart; shattering the hope he had just held. "Is that the only way I'm going to get you? 'Cause, to be honest, I'd much rather be your husband."

"Friends. Take it or leave it."

"I'll take it, Char, but only because I'm not willing to lose you completely."

"I'm already gone."

**A/N: My favourite chapter yet! Hehe . . . Lemme know what you think. **


	6. Guest Room

**A/N: Shonda still owns. I just reread my last chapter, and realized that I liked the idea, but that the write was lacking a lot. Sorry, guys. :/ Hopefully this one steps it up a bit. On another note, sorry for my absentmindedness on the Archer fact. I will incorporate that into this chapter, somehow. There is an explanation. **

Two weeks had passed. Charlotte had worn Cooper's shirt to work twice in fourteen days, tied up on one side so that it hugged her figure in places that Cooper only wished he could lay hands on. They weren't what he would consider friends, but they were civil. He and Violet were friends. He and Charlotte acted as though their knowledge of one another didn't stem past last names and occupations.

And to be honest, Cooper didn't feel as if it did.

"I think it's really over, Violet. I think she's done this time." He announced as he sauntered into his friend's office, immediately sprawling himself across the unoccupied couch.

"I'm sorry, Coop."

"For . . . ?" That was a loaded question, of course. Violet could be sorry for a number of things. To begin with, they were sharing a patient at the moment, and the thirteen year old girl wasn't progressing well.

"If I wouldn't have been such an idiot, you wouldn't even be in this situation."

Oh.

That's what she meant.

"This isn't your fault. We both know that. Besides, it was a kiss. You would think she could just get over it. I mean, she slept with Archer and I forgave her. Compared to that, this . . . seems like nothing."

Violet stood from her desk and moved to sit in the chair across from where Cooper lay. Somehow these conversations always ended up being more of a session than anything else. Cooper needed it, so she didn't mind. He was one person in desperate need of a psychiatrist, even on good days. Fortunately for him, his best friend fit the bill perfectly. "First of all, this isn't a competition. You can't say that what you or she did was worse. From Charlotte's prospective, a kiss between us is so much more complicated than meaningless sex between her and Archer. He's a womanizing man whore, whereas you and I . . . it appears to be more because of the relationship we have."

And what relationship, exactly, was that?

"Was there really nothing more, or should she be worried?" Cooper couldn't look her in the eyes. Deep down, he didn't want her to say there was something more, but everything within him was screaming that maybe, just maybe, those fourteen seconds had meant more to Violet. The kiss had meant something more to him as well, but it was a completely different type of "more". It was a more that proved that the old Cooper hadn't been completely lost.

He wanted the old Cooper to be completely lost.

"There's nothing to be worried about, Coop. We're friends, I was having a hard day."

Any other time she had a hard day, it didn't end in kissing. Ever.

"Okay," his tone was flat; empty.

The conversation fell silent. Ten minutes later, Cooper made an excuse about having to do some paperwork and split from Violet's office. He decided against grabbing a bite for lunch when he saw Charlotte and Pete talking in hushed tones in the kitchen. He wouldn't want to be intrusive, of course. He also didn't want to know what they were talking about. Probably Charlotte's hot date the night before . . . or something like that.

Sam caught him before he had reached his own office, an unseen smile brightening every one of his features.

"Looks like someone just won the lottery," Cooper told him, not sharing the enthusiasm.

"Better," Sam quipped. Something was obviously up.

"Better than winning the lottery?" He was impressed. There weren't many things he could think of that were better than winning the lottery.

"I want you to do me a favour."

"Shoot." This should be interesting.

"Be my best man in two weeks from today?"

Cooper was immediately excited. Addison and Sam - married! This was the most exhilarating news he had heard since . . . well . . . in a while. And Sam wanted him to be his best man? He was in. Launching forward, he crushed Sam in a "bro hug" of sorts, expressing his joy for the couple. Then, suddenly, the groom-to-be's words hit him. Two weeks?

"Why the shotgun wedding? You afraid she's gonna change her mind?" He was kidding, of course, but that didn't excuse his need for an answer. Sam and Addison weren't the "let's jump into irrational and unplanned situations" type of people. They both had their heads on straight, for the most part.

Sam shifted his weight, "Two weeks from today i- would be, I mean, Dell's birthday. Because he can't be at the wedding, Addison and I want to bring him there in a way. And I'm not waiting a year to marry her."

Cooper couldn't help but smile back at the look on his friend's face. The whole Dell thing was an ingenious gesture as well. He wished it had been his idea.

"I would be honoured to be your best man."

"Thanks, Cooper. I appreciate it." Sam nodded, grasping his hand and shaking it with vigour. His happiness was written in his blood, traveling through his system.

After work the pediatrician made his way to the club where he and Charlotte had met for the first time outside of work. He could vividly recall their first time together - the passion, the dirty talk, the sweat. Cooper hadn't believed that it was going anywhere at that point. He hadn't even thought there would be a second date. Obviously he hadn't been a very good future gazer.

Several drinks and many hours later, the bartender knew more about Cooper than Cooper did. He had long since confiscated his car keys and written down his home address. The only problem was that his home address as not his home address. It was Charlotte's.

It should have been his, but he was stuck in a hotel room with three pairs of clothing.

"Call me a cab, Johnnie," he told the large, ugly barman, "I'm going home."

Johnnie nodded, "Will do."

The next thing Cooper heard, that he could remember, was the taxi driver telling him the fee of the car ride. He handed the dark eyed Hindu more than what was necessary and told him to keep the change before stumbling out of the yellow vehicle. It was two in the morning, he was intoxicated beyond a level of the publicly acceptable, and he definitely was not thinking straight.

_Knock. Knock, knock. Knock._

Charlotte wasn't sleeping. She couldn't sleep without Cooper beside her. She couldn't sleep without him in the house. She hadn't slept for more than twenty minutes at a time since he hadn't been in bed next to her.

_Knock, knock, knock._

Wait - she hadn't been hearing things? What the hell?

Harder this time - _Knock! Knock!_

Rolling out from under the heap of blankets, she grabbed her housecoat and crept down the stairs. Whomever her visitor was, they were impatient. Flicking on the inside and outside lights, she peered through the peephole with curiosity.

_Cooper._

Charlotte unlocked the door and opened up. Before she could get a word out to chastise him for his timing, he was rambling, "Charlotte! What are you doing here?"

Obviously drunk.

"The better question is, 'What are you doin' here?'. It's two o'clock in the morning."

"I don't . . . I don't really know. I can't sleep alone tonight. I know that much."

She shifted her weight, awkwardly trying to avoid his bright blue eyes, "I'm not sleepin' with you, Cooper."

He looked like a helpless child, throwing his hands up with a shrug, "That's not what I meant. Just let me have the guest room."

Charlotte couldn't say no to the look on his face. It would be more difficult than telling a child they couldn't have the kitten from the pet shelter.

"The guest room is taken."

"Oh."

She wasn't lying. Really, she wasn't.

"Who . . . who's here?" Cooper looked confused, which he had the right to be.

She couldn't tell him. Her confidante wouldn't be able to trust her if she gave up that information. But what did it really matter? Coop wouldn't remember in the morning, anyway. "Pete's estranged daughter."

"Oh."

There. That was easy enough.

"Pete has a daughter?"

Uhoh.

"Look, you can sleep on the couch. Be out of here first thing in the morning."

"Thanks, Charlotte. You're a good friend."

God. He was a horrible drunk. As Cooper pushed past her into the living room, Charlotte locked the door once again and headed back up to her bedroom. He knew his way around.

**A/N: Review! I love to hear what you think.**


	7. Night Songs

**A/N: Still own NADA! Unfortunately, I have to continually say that. Anyway, I would like to say to those who are looking for 50 chapters of happily-ever-after CharCoop, stop reading now. This fanfiction is about the trials and obstacles of getting through a tough time in a relationship. I will not write continuous fluff, though some may show up here and there. I hope that everyone can continue reading and enjoying.**

Charlotte stirred with the coming of daylight, her eyes flickering open. A man's arm was draped over her - she could tell it was the arm of a man because of the thick, dark hair. The problem was - she couldn't remember who or why or how there was a man's arm draped over her as she awoke.

The fog began to fade and everything was returning . . .

_Cooper._

They were both fully (or . . . mostly) clothed. The only missing pieces were Cooper's shirt and socks.

After showing up on her doorstep at two in the morning, drunk out of his mind, he had laid on her couch singing love songs at the top of his lungs until four. Her attempts to ignore him had been useless, and Charlotte had finally trampled down the stairs into the living room, arms crossed. If only she were a teenager, then she could have been sleeping sounding like Sophie up in the guest room.

Upon seeing her there in her pajamas, Cooper had jumped to his feet and offered her a seat on the couch.

"_Could you please just shut up?" _she had requested, and trampled straight back up the stairs. Moments after settling in once again, Charlotte had been surprised by the shadow of her drunken ex-fiance in her bedroom doorway.

"_Just let me hold you," _he was asking.

"_Are you gonna stop singin'?"_

Cooper had nodded and crawled into her bed alongside her, silently. Charlotte could smell the whiskey on his breath, falling asleep almost immediately.

And now . . . now she was waking up in his arms.

And it felt right. Oh so right.

But it was wrong.

"Cooper," she whispered, nudging him gently with her elbow. He rolled over, a grunt escaping his open mouth as she was released from his hold.

Moving to the edge of the bed, she ran a hand through her disheveled hair, yawning. Suddenly two thick arms surrounded her waist and a head was face-down in the mattress next to her. "Please stay here, Charlotte," came Coop's muffled voice.

"Sophie's in the next room and I need to wake to get ready. Pete'll be here in an hour to pick her up."

"Sophie. Pete's daughter."

_Shit_. Pete didn't want anyone knowing anything about this whole ordeal to begin with. Charlotte was involved because of a stupid deal that had gone too far. Cooper did not need to be.

Reaching down, she took his arms and pulled them away from her body, rising from her sitting position. "Don't say dare say a word about this to anyone. Especially not Violet. Yes, Sophie is Pete's daughter. That's all you get to know."

"Wait," he was now lying across the bed, his head dangling off the edge, "Why is Pete's estranged daughter staying with you?"

"That's none of your business. Look, you weren't supposed to remember what I told you last night. You also weren't supposed to end up in my bed. I need you to get ready and get out of here. Please, Cooper." Charlotte began opening and closing her dresser drawers, removing various clothing items and tossing them onto a chair for when she was finished in the shower.

Sighing, Cooper whined, "I have a headache," holding his head between his hands and rolling onto his stomach, where the room was no longer appearing upside down.

"That's because you drank. It's called a consequence."

"Why are you trying so hard to hate me, Char? Why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn? It was _one _kiss. Don't you find it harder to hold back than to let go?"

She slammed the dresser drawer closed, spinning to look at him draped across their bed - her bed, "You don't get to pull the 'it was one kiss' line! You don't get to do that because I don't know that, I've never known with you and Violet, and I never will. I have to find someway to hate you, because if I keep lovin' you, I'm never gonna live."

Cooper was on his feet now, talking with wild hand gestures, "You have to trust me! It was one kiss, Charlotte, and it's the biggest mistake I've ever made. Not because it was a bad kiss, because believe me, it wasn't. It's the stupidest thing I've ever done because I'm afraid I'm going to lose the woman I love for it. I'm asking you to forgive me - I'm saying sorry, and you won't even hear it. This is fucking ridiculous!"

Shaking her head from side to side, she halved the space between them, "Every time I've ever forgiven a man, they've had to come back and say sorry again. I can't keep goin' through the same hurt."

He thought that he would have some snappy comeback for her words, but he didn't. He was at a loss. All he wanted was to love her, and that was the one thing she wouldn't allow him to do. If that's the way it was going to be, fine. "I'm done. I can't keep fighting with you. If you want me gone, I'm gone."

Turning, Cooper left the room. His shirt was downstairs and he had nothing else. The plan was to grab a quick breakfast and get out before Pete was there. This time, he was serious. He was legitimately finished fighting.

A skinny teenager with colours of tattoo ink showing on her lower back was bent over in the fridge. Her pants were too low and her shirt didn't come down far enough for Cooper's comfort. Dyed black hair was pulled into a messy ponytail held with a green elastic. For a brief moment, he was clueless as to who he was looking at. Then the girl stood and roughly placed a container of orange juice on the counter, and he knew. Pete Wilder stared back at him. Or at least, his eyes did. _Sophie_.

"Who the hell are you?" she questioned him in a tone that lacked any hint of respect.

He couldn't tell her. She might mention something to her father, in which case, Charlotte's slipup of telling Cooper was out in the open. Narrowing his eyes, he matched the girl's tone, "That's none of your business."

"Well . . . does Charlotte know your here?" A slight jab of underlying worry. Who was this strange man that had appeared from nowhere? He had to restrain himself from laughing at the look on her face.

"I slept with her, so I'm assuming she does."

Ha. Nice answer. He only realized how it sounded after it was out of his mouth. Too late then, and he wasn't about to retract in front of a Wilder.

Opening the cupboard, he pulled out the bread and peanut butter, the crossed paths with Sophie for the jam in the fridge. Peanut butter and jam was a perfectly acceptable breakfast.

"So . . . why are you here?" The girl just stared at him, then picked up the jug of orange juice and took a long swig right out of it. Cooper made a mental note to never drink orange juice in his house until he was sure he had purchased groceries again.

When she set it down, she cocked her eyebrow at him, "My dad and Charlotte are friends. Apparently he had some shit to deal with last night, so I got dumped here. He doesn't trust me. It's okay, though, blondie and I had a good time."

Oh. Kay . . .

"Good to know." The girl didn't say another word to him, and Cooper was out of the house before Charlotte had gotten out of the shower. He took a cab to work, making a mental note to get his car during lunch.

**A/N: Next chapter will be the wedding. Unfortunately, I think there will only be a couple more chapters. :/ Maybe not . . . could always lead elsewhere, right? Review! :D**


	8. Stupid Mistakes

**A/N: Shonda Rhimes owns all the rights, blah, blah, blah . . . Thanks for all the reviews, guys! Love the feedback. **

It would have been Dell's birthday, and it was Sam and Addison's wedding. Cooper straightened his blue tie in the mirror. Black suit, black shirt, blue tie, and Sam was in the tradition black/white/black. Naomi wore a blue dress that matched Cooper's tie. Everything was so well coordinated, so beautiful. But the only thing that Cooper could think was that this should have been his wedding.

But it wasn't. Charlotte and Cooper had barely exchanged small talk in the last two weeks, and he was getting over it. He had said that he was done, and he was. No more drunken nights and showing up on her doorstep at two in the morning. No more wearing her engagement ring on a chain around his neck. No more caring that she was periodically wearing his favourite shirt.

And no more thinking about it.

A knock on the door. "Come in," he said, turning to see who would enter.

It was Sam, dressed and ready to say his vows. "You ready?"

"Mhm. Are you?" Contrary to popular belief, if wasn't only the bride that got pre-wedding jitters. The groom had their doubts and fears most of the time as well.

A smile spread across Sam's face, "A year ago, Addie and I were neighbours. We were friends and we drank together on Friday nights. If you would have told me that I was about to develop some crazy-ass-crush-turned-relationship and would be marrying her, I would have sent you for a psych evaluation."

Cooper laughed, "I know what you mean. But you're ready? I mean . . . you're not worrying about stumbling over your lines or Maya standing up and reading off her objections or something like that?"

Clapping Cooper on the back, it was Sam's turn to laugh, "Of course I'm worried. I scared to death, but I know it'll all turn out okay. Besides, Maya's happy I'm marrying Addison."

"Alright. As long as you're good."

"Thanks for your permission, bro. Now let's get this show on the road."

The two men exited the small room, entering the church and finding their way to the alter. It was time.

It was time for Sam to get married.

The ceremony was traditional; sweet. Standing up on the alter aside the couple made Cooper's stolen glances toward Charlotte impossible to hide. When it happened that their eyes met for the third time, he restrained himself from looking her way again. After all, he was over it. At least, getting there.

After the ceremony, the reception, dinner, and dance were at a hall they had rented out a few blocks over. Dinner seemed to be a hundred courses of extravagant food. Cooper sat next to Naomi across from Sam and Addison. They laughed and talked and shared stories and gave toasts. The rest of their friends, everyone from the practice, was at a separate table. He couldn't resist stealing glances. Obviously Charlotte had the same idea, because their eyes kept meeting. The process never changed: glance, catch eye contact, look away, pretend nothing was happening.

But it was. Obviously.

The newly married couple shared their first dance. There were a hundred or so guests, and they all watched in a sense of awe. Sam and Addison truly were an amazing couple. Cooper danced with Naomi. He danced with Addison. He danced with Violet.

Charlotte danced with Pete. She danced with Sam. She danced with Sheldon. And then she danced with Pete again.

Coop watched each dance. He watched Pete's hands on her hips and her back, lower than what he was comfortable seeing. He watched as she laughed and smiled and avoided looking his way. It was ridiculous. Because he knew she saw him.

It was as he was walking toward the open bar that he felt a cool hand grasp his wrist, and a southern accent hiss into his ear, "Follow me."

Following Charlotte, he soon found himself in the women's washroom, questions written all over his face.

"You gotta stop doing this to me, Coop. You have to stop!" The only thing stopping her from breaking down in tears was the fact that she didn't want her mascara to run down her face.

"W- What are you talking about? I'm not doing anything!" Cooper managed to stutter. The emotion on her face had him in shock. Something was wrong. Terribly so.

"It's this broken English. I can't move on!"

"Broken English?"

"Yes! You keep tellin' me one thing and showin' me another. You say you're finished and then you watch me like a hawk. It's wrong . . . and it's - it's _broken_. And so am I."

Cooper took a step closer to her, the fact that he was in a woman's washroom never crossing his mind, "_You_ left _me_! Charlotte, you _left _me!"

She was shouting, "And I am sorry! I'm sorry," lowering her voice, "I made one stupid mistake after another. I left you, and when I realized that I was wrong, I was too proud to say it."

Oh.

"And now you want me to be okay with that?"

She didn't know what to say. She hadn't really thought about what she wanted him to do or not to do.

Cooper continued, "I made a mistake that lasted all of fourteen seconds and you couldn't forgive me. Now you expect me to nod my head and pretend all is well? I can't do that!"

"I - I don't want you to. I need you to know that I'm sorry. That I know I fucked up. That's all I'm asking."

Suddenly, his voice was soft, "We both fucked up."

The next thing that he knew, mouths were colliding and tongues were brushing as clothes were being pulled off. When her back collided with the cold bathroom door, Charlotte broke from Cooper's kiss to switch the lock. She fumbled with his belt as he unclasped her bra. His tie was discarded onto the floor. It didn't matter how much he liked the tie, it was no longer important.

As he was moving to remove her little black panties, she grabbed his hands to stop him. Her green eyes stared intently into his blue ones before she spoke, "I love you, Cooper. I love you."

Cooper could do nothing, say nothing, but lean into her, laughing into her neck. Charlotte's hands were in his hair and stroking the back of his neck. They were about to make love in the bathroom at Sam and Addison's wedding. And she loved him. Everything was good.

**A/N: This is the second last chapter. One more and our adventures are over. I hope that everyone can find they enjoy some of my other and future fics as well. Please review! :D**


	9. Returning

**A/N: Unfortunately, this will be my last chapter for this fic. My next story will be a Grey's Anatomy/Private Practice crossover, but will be listed in the Grey's Anatomy section. Chapter one has already been posted and can be found on my profile, titled New Beginnings. As a preview, I'll tell you that it will be a Charlotte/Owen story. I hope that some of my readers here will follow over to there :)**

Unfortunately for Sam, Addison, Cooper, Charlotte, and Pete, a certain secret had been exposed the night of the wedding. As politely as was humanly possible in his situation, Pete removed a tempered Violet from the building and explained the situation when Sophie made her surprise appearance. Charlotte and Cooper had managed to avoid the whole fiasco, as they were quite busy behind the scenes.

When they exited the bathroom, Cooper opted to take Violet back to her house. Charlotte offered to take Sophie back to her place. Cooper and her didn't get much of a chance to talk.

He almost contemplated if it was better that way. That she didn't have a chance to regret what they had done. Not that there was anything to regret. Dirty, naughty, bathroom sex with your ex-fiance was completely acceptable. At least in this scenario. It had to be.

In his hotel room the next day, Cooper gathered the items that he had been living off of over the past weeks and checked out. He was headed home. Hopefully, he would be welcome.

The radio clock in his car read 8:47 in bright green numbers when he pulled into his driveway. _His driveway. _It felt so right to think of it as his once again.

_Knock. Knock, knock. Knock._

The door opened almost immediately, and he was greeted with the sight of Charlotte in sweat pants and a sweatshirt that he was quite positive belonged to him.

"Hey, stranger," a smile was on her face. That was a good sign. Right? She wouldn't be smiling if she wasn't in a good mood.

Oh shit. He hadn't practiced this. Cooper didn't know what to say. Instead of coming out with one of the things he had imagined he would say, he managed, "I want my shirt back."

"Which one?" she teased.

"All of them. Specifically the blue one you've been hiding in the bottom drawer of your desk."

"Oh? Really now?" she seemed amused. Was there something he was unaware of?

"Is this going to be a problem?"

"I think we'll have to make some compromises."

Hm. What kind? Before Cooper had a chance to ask, Charlotte was telling him, "You'll have to move in with me and my crazy mood swings. And you'll have to have hot sex with me every night for the next two weeks."

He was nodding, moving forward, and placing a soft kiss on her lips, "Mhm. I think we can manage your request."

"Good," she kissed him back, reaching her arms around his neck and holding him in a tight embrace, "I missed you."

Pulling from her arms, Cooper dropped onto his left knee, digging into his pocket. Out came her engagement ring a second later, and his blue eyes were locked onto her green ones, "I love you, Charlotte King. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to marry you and grow old with you. I'm not asking, I'm telling. You're going to marry me. And if you ever try to give me this ring back again, I'm gonna glue it to your finger. Understood?"

Raising an eyebrow at his proposal, Charlotte leaned down to his level and placed a kiss on his forehead, "Understood," she agreed. It was unlike her to go with that kind of flow, but he was Cooper. She wasn't about to mess things up again. Ever.

**A/N: This was just a short wrap up chapter to bring everything together. Hope everyone has enjoyed! Find my other stories for more fun. :D Please review.**


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